


Of Insomnia and Hallucinations

by Nagem



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bank Robbery, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagem/pseuds/Nagem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is a bank teller that hates his job. Gerard Way is set on doing whatever it takes to make sure his daughter comes home safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Insomnia and Hallucinations

Frank Iero woke up on that Wednesday as if it were any other Wednesday. There was nothing spectacular about that day, and yet it was in so many ways. He just didn't know it yet.

He dragged himself out of bed, took a shower, brushed his teeth, decided against shaving, and started out of his house with only a tube of Go-Gurt as his breakfast.

He didn't think of any other wild antics that would take place during the day. It wasn't a very eventful job, being a bank teller and all.

 

Gerard Way woke up on that Wednesday, knowing that today was the day. It wasn't just any ordinary Wednesday, no. Today was the _day_.

He dragged himself out of bed, neglected to take a shower, brushed his teeth, neglected to shave, and went over to his closet. He pulled out a box from the very back and took out a gun. He checked to see if it was loaded before slipping it into the inside pocket of his long coat. He patted it, seeing if it was visible through the material. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his bag from the bed, peering in it. He turned it over and dumped the contents out. He kicked them underneath his bed before slinging it over his shoulder. He looked around, chewing on his index finger. He walked over to his desk and grabbed a rubber Frankenstein mask. He half-smiled before sliding it over his head.

He was relying on his lack of sleep from the past three days to provide some sort of adrenaline rush for the upcoming events. He fantasized over the mere thought and left his house without any breakfast.

 

Frank worked at First and People's Bank full-time as a bank teller. He hadn't anticipated for him to end up like this, but there was only so much he could do. Besides, it was a job that paid him enough money to pay the bills and groceries. He wasn't really complaining.

He had just gotten done dealing with the most _aggravating_ client when he decided to reward himself with a break. He stood up from his seat and patted his person, searching for his packet of cigarettes. When he found them, he nodded to himself and turned to leave his cubicle. But he suddenly stopped when he heard the click of a gun next to his ear.

"Give me all of your money."

Frank slowly turned around, eyes wide. He expected to see a burly man in front of him with a black ski mask on. But it was exactly the opposite. Instead, he was met with a lanky guy with a rubber Frankenstein mask over his face. He remembered wearing that mask for Halloween when he was _seven_. But despite the unthreatening appearance, the guy did have a gun, and Frank wasn't exactly bulletproof.

He frowned and nodded at the gun. "Hey, man, put the gun down. Okay? You're making a mistake. You know… I'll let you walk out of this free—no police calls or anything." The tellers around Frank watched with wide eyes.

The man in the mask narrowed his eyes. Frank could tell that they were a shade of hazel. "No. Give me your money. Now." He reached out behind him blindly, keeping the gun on Frank. He pulled out a bag and tossed it at the teller. "Fill it up. Or… I'll shoot you."

Frank stared at him, his stance, his gun, the way his finger was positioned on the trigger. He glanced over at the nearby teller and gave a silent plea. She merely managed a small nod and reached under her desk, pressing a red button.

The man's eyes widened, and he turned the gun on her. "What did you do?" he cried, shaking the gun. He looked over at Frank. "What did you make her do?" Frank held up his hands, helpless. His throat was dry, and he knew there was no way he was going to answer him.

Just as if the robber's question was answered, the sounds of police sirens were heard. Frank could see the hazel eyes widen from underneath the mask. He turned the gun back over to Frank, pressing it against his forehead. "Now! Fill the bag up now! I will not hesitate to blow your brains out!"

Frank knew that this time he was serious, and he dropped his hands down, grabbing the man's bag and opening up the register. He quickly shoveled the money into the bag and shut it, thrusting it into the other's chest. "Here! That's all of it!" He held his arms back up, eyes widening. The man had not taken the gun off of Frank's forehead.

Frank expected the Frankenstein man to run then, his mind off its end because of the cops outside, but instead, the man held his bag to his chest and backed up a bit. He stayed quiet for a minute or two before waving the gun. "You're coming with me." He put the bag over his shoulder and reached over the counter, grabbing Frank by the hair and pulling him over the surface. He wrapped his arm across Frank's shoulders, holding him to his chest before slowly backing up, gun pointed ahead. "If any one tries to follow me or tells the police where I went, this man right here will die." He placed the gun to Frank's temple and tapped it twice. The tellers and the other clients looked at the Frankenstein man with eyes filled with shock and fright. A couple looked like they were going to go right ahead to the police, knowing that their asses were saved and a criminal would be behind bars, but no one moved.

The man slowly nodded and smiled. "Good." He pointed the gun on every person he passed before backing out of the bank's back door. Frank looked up at the nearby security camera, keeping his gaze there long enough to make sure the police would at least have a last picture of him or something, but Frankenstein man shook him. "What the hell are you looking at?" he asked in his raspy tone before following Frank's eyes. He tightened his grip on Frank's shoulder and raised up the gun, shooting—and missing—at the camera. "Sonofabitch," he said in one breath, looking around. He quickly shot at it two more times, hitting it successfully on the second time. He turned and headed towards the door, acting like he hadn't really been delayed in the first place.

Frank began to fidget, wanting desperately to get away. He had no idea where he was going to be taken, no idea what he was going to be headed into, but all he knew was that morning's Go-Gurt was not settling well in his stomach.

Frankenstein man pressed the gun against Frank's temple again, clicking it. The sound echoed in his ear, and his stomach churned. He roughly swallowed and looked off to the side, seeing the exit. "Door's over there," he muttered, trying to keep his stomach contents where they belonged. The other gave his thanks before dragging him over to the door, pushing it open and leaving the bank.

The last thing Frank saw were the worried looks of his fellow co-workers before the door closed behind them.

 

The others stayed true to their word—there were no cops in sight. Frankenstein man had dropped his arm from around Frank and began to pace in a single line, muttering things to himself. Frank had no idea what to do, so he stayed put. He could hear the police sirens from around the building.

"My car," the man finally said, walking past Frank and heading towards a black Trans AM. He dug out his keys from his pocket and tossed them at Frank, who had managed to catch them at the last second before they collided with his face. He stared at the set of keys, noticing a little Hello Kitty figurine on the key ring. He narrowed his eyes and ran his thumb over it.

"What are you doing just standing there? We have to _go go go_." Frank lifted up his head, seeing the other in the passenger's seat. He still had the mask on, and the gun was pointed out the window. Frank took a deep breath and slid into the car.

He looked over at the man after starting up the car and placing his hands on the steering wheel. "Don't you think you need to look less suspicious?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't even look suspicious. Everybody else does. Look at them." He pointed at the cops ahead. Frank craned his neck to see. "They look ridiculous. They're just waiting for something to go wrong, and then they strike." He positioned his gun again, tightening his grip on it. "Not for long—"

"—no!" Frank reached over and pulled the gun away from the others. He stared at the Frankenstein man, whose eyes had narrowed underneath his mask. "What the hell is wrong with _you_? You can't just shoot into a whole crowd of law enforcement figures. What are you thinking?" He shook his head and faced front, sitting up straight. "Now, take off that God-awful mask and lower your gun." He took a deep breath and looked down. "What type of bank robber are you?"

 

Gerard did as the bank teller said, whose name was Frank, assuming by the name that was on the tag on his shirt. He opened up the glove box and shoved the gun in there, covering it up with miscellaneous items. He glanced at Frank, who was still sitting silently in the driver's seat, hands on the wheel. "Drive," he instructed, pulling off the rubber mask. He instantly took a deep breath, thankful for the fresh air. He stuffed that in the glove box and covered it up, too. He turned to look out of the window, then, watching the cops. He could feel Frank's eyes on him, but he didn't say anything. The cops were taunting him. He could see a couple of them holding signs near their chests.

_"Come out, Gerard. We know you're in there."_

_"Is this the best you could do?"_

_"You'll never get that money."_

_"You're pathetic, just like your mother said."_

Gerard took a deep breath and looked ahead, clenching his fists around his bag. "I got it, you fuckers," he growled.

Frank narrowed his eyes and looked over at Gerard again. "What?"

His eyes widened, and he smacked Frank's arm. "Drive, drive, drive!"

 

Knotted black hair, pale skin, and hazel eyes accompanied with dark spots underneath them—this man looked nothing like a bank robber, or any type of criminal at that. Frank managed to sneak glances at him while he drove, seeing as that if he was caught staring, the other would shriek at him in that raspy tone of voice and insisted that he continued to drive. Then, he would look back out of the window, muttering about his mother and his lack of income.

About forty-five minutes into the trip, Frank decided to break the awkward silence and attempted to start a conversation.

"So, what's your name?"

The black-head glanced at him and lowered his gaze, running his thumbs along the bag. "Gerard," he mumbled, pointing his toes inward.

Frank slowly nodded. "Neato. I'm Frank."

"I know."

"What?" He looked over at Gerard. "But—"

"—nametag," he muttered back, reaching over and touching the tag. He curled his fingers around it and ripped it off, studying the piece of plastic. He sniffed and threw it behind him, hearing it land in the car's floor.

Frank frowned and looked ahead again. "Alright…" He glanced down at his shirt, seeing a small hole had resulted in the removal. He scrunched up his nose. Gerard did not seem to be the talkative type. He pursed his lips, clicked his tongue, and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He blew out a stream of air before looking over at Gerard. "Rob banks often?"

The noirette widened his eyes and looked over at Frank, shaking his head furiously. "No!" He looked ahead, breathing heavily, as if he had ran a marathon. He roughly swallowed and shook his head again. "No, I don't." He looked out of the window again.

Frank furrowed his brow. "So, this is a one time thing? Nifty. Why did you need the money?"

Gerard narrowed his eyes and didn't turn his head to look over at the brunette. He grumbled underneath his breath, tightening his grip on the bag.

"What?"

"I rather not talk about it," he repeated, voice louder.

Frank slowly nodded and faced front. "Okay," he breathed out, wetting his lips. There was an eerie silence in the car again, and Frank decided not to break it for at least until a few good minutes had passed. He didn't want to make Gerard angry, since his gun was in arms reach.

"Where are we going?" he asked quietly, then, carefully glancing at Gerard.

"Just drive. I'll tell you when to stop."

"I can't drive all night."

"They're following us. We can't let them find our trail."

Frank furrowed his brow and bit his lip.

 

"Pull over here."

Frank turned his head, staring at the place Gerard had pointed at. It was a hotel, not a five-star one, of course, but a decent one. Frank pulled into a parking spot and began to slip out of the car, but Gerard stopped him, holding onto his arm with a death grip. "Wait," he hissed, glancing at Frank. "We need to lay down a few ground rules."

The brunette's throat grew dry, and he roughly swallowed. "Ground rules?"

Gerard nodded, eyes wide. "First, you have to obey me. You're a kidnapped hostage, and, _hopefully_ , nobody knows where we went." He studied Frank before pulling his hand away from his arm. He flexed his fingers, sniffing. "Second, you will keep close to me. If anyone asks, we're a couple on our way to elope in Vegas, okay?" When Frank nodded, he continued. "Third, you will always remain in my line of sight. If you so happen to escape me, or if I become incapacitated somehow over the night, I will track you down and kill you." He scanned Frank's face, which was beginning to grow pale. "Got it?"

Frank managed to pry his jaws open. "Got it."

"Good, now, get out."

 

The trip into the motel had gone smoothly, much to Frank's delight. He wouldn't have known what he would have expected to happen if they had managed to get caught there. Well, the simple facts were clear: Frank would go back to his shitty job as a bank teller, and Gerard would go to jail. But the deeper meaning of the whole situation would never be solved or seen. He wouldn't know why Gerard needed that money, and why he kept talking about his mother in such a degrading tone. Despite everything, Frank wanted to find out what was going on in Gerard's head—even if it wasn't going to be pretty.

They made it into their motel room with ease. But as Frank stepped into the bedroom, he noticed with distaste that there was only one twin sized bed. He bit his lip and looked behind him at Gerard, who was lurking in the back. "Um, are we sharing the bed?"

Gerard walked up towards him, coughing a bit. "I figured it wouldn't be a big deal." He glanced at Frank. "Is it a big deal?" he added, narrowing his eyes.

Frank shook his head. "Oh, no, I love sleeping with creepy men." He rolled his eyes and began to make his way over to the bed, but Gerard had roughly grabbed his arm. He pulled him closer and whipped him around.

"Take that back," he snarled, glaring at Frank. He tightened his grip on the other's arm, and he narrowed his eyes again. "You didn't mean it. Take it back."

Frank's eyes widened, and he looked up at Gerard. He shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. I take it back. I take it back." He nodded furiously.

The black-head curled his fingers into the limb. "Take what back? What are you taking back?" He shook him.

"I don't love sleeping with creepy men. Yeah, I don't. You're not creepy at all, Gerard, not at all. Nope." He smiled a bit, seeing if it would persuade Gerard that he was honest about it. But, in actuality, Gerard was really creepy as _fuck_.

Gerard stared at Frank for the longest time before releasing his grip on him. He slowly nodded and took a couple of steps back. "Okay." He nodded again and studied Frank. "Okay," he repeated. He looked down and turned, starting towards the bathroom. "Get to… uh… bed. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." He nodded once more before hurrying into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Not wanting to disappoint, Frank scrambled into bed and turned on his side, facing the wall. He placed his hands under the pillow and steadied his breathing. If he was quiet enough, he could hear the neighbors next door talking. It sounded like they were having a disagreement.

In the bathroom, he could hear the sound of someone softly crying. Obviously, Frank knew that someone had to be Gerard. Through the straggled breaths and sobs, he could hear the other mutter one name over and over: Ellie.

He furrowed his brow. Who the fuck was Ellie?

 

Frank woke up the next morning to the sound of plates clicking together. He sat up and stretched, ruffling the back of his hair. He turned his head, seeing Gerard sitting beside him with a tray of breakfast food on it. He pointed at it. "What's—"

"—room service," Gerard replied quietly, shoving some food onto a plate. He handed it over to Frank, who had taken the time to study the other.

His skin had gotten paler, if that was even possible, and the dark circles underneath his eyes had gotten darker than they were the day before.

Frank carefully took the plate of food and stared hopelessly at Gerard. "Didn't you get any sleep?" he asked, setting the plate on his lap.

He slowly shook his head. "No," he said simply. He sat back and grabbed his own plate. He began to eat, head down low.

"But why not? I mean, we have an actual bed. Why wouldn't you take the chance to sleep?"

"I was thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Just leave me alone, okay?"

Frank and Gerard stared at each other, the noirette's chest moving up and down rapidly. He looked down at his food and immediately started eating again, as if the food would make the previous conversation disappear. Frank frowned. He looked down at his own plate. He picked up his fork and studied it. "Who's Ellie?" He quickly took a bite of an egg.

Gerard froze, and his fork slipped out of his grip, dropping onto his plate. He narrowed his eyes at his food, beginning to shake. "Frank," he began softly. "What did I tell you?"

The brunette froze himself, and he looked down at his plate. "To leave you alone?"

Gerard slowly shook his head. "No. Before that."

"That you were thinking?"

"No. Before _that_."

"Um." Frank furrowed his brow and looked ahead.

Gerard took a deep breath. "In the car, I told you to obey me. Did you obey me a few minutes ago?"

Frank's face fell. "No. I-I didn't." The other only nodded as he looked back down at his plate. He picked up his fork and resumed eating. Frank watched him carefully. "What are you going to—?"

Gerard raised up a hand to silence him. He glanced at him before pointing at his plate. "Your food's getting cold." He looked down and wet his lips. "Need all of your strength. Have a big day today. Gotta travel."

Frank looked down and held his fork carefully. "Where are we going?" He cut into a portion of his pancakes.

The other smiled, looking ahead. "Remember, dear. We're supposed to elope in Vegas."

 

A couple hours later, Gerard and Frank were on the road again. Gerard still hadn't told him where they were supposed to be going—just mentioned the fact that they were supposed to be 'eloping' and that their day would be filled with traveling. He had still neglected to tell Frank who was Ellie, but he figured he wouldn't be getting an answer to that question anytime soon.

About half an hour into their car ride, Frank was being driven to the brink of insanity by the silence. He looked over at Gerard, narrowing his eyes. "You should get some sleep. Maybe you could be able to think more clearly when you're rested up."

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Gerard mumbled, looking down. "You want me to fall asleep, so you can snap my neck or something. That's what they all want." He looked out of the window.

Frank slowly frowned. "I wouldn't want to snap your neck," he said cautiously. He looked ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Gerard was obviously not in the right state of mind, but that was mostly due to the fact it looked like he hadn't had a lick of sleep since the previous week. He was scared that soon the other wouldn't be able to make rational decisions and end up getting the both of them into some serious trouble. Well, not like robbing a bank and taking someone hostage was _serious_ trouble or anything.

He slowly breathed out. "Seriously, dude. Get some sleep. I'm scared."

Gerard looked over at Frank. "Why should you be scared? It's my health. And besides, I feel perfectly fine." He narrowed his eyes.

"Well, _sure_ , if you wanna be that type of guy, but not sleeping can have a serious take on your health and wellbeing. You're not exactly in your right mind, are you?"

 

Gerard narrowed his eyes and looked out of the window as the car slowed to a stop for the red light. He scooted closer to the window, staring ahead at the side of the road. He saw his mother standing there with a sign to her chest and a can in one hand. From his spot, he could vaguely see what the words on the sign were, but he got the gist of the message.

_"Please donate money for my pathetic son—he can't afford the medicine that his—"_

"—you're not exactly in your right mind, are you?"

Gerard shook his head, his mother disappearing before his very eyes. He looked ahead and blinked a couple times, eyes wide. "No… I suppose I'm not." He slowly sunk down in his seat, frowning. He looked ahead again and raised up a bony hand, pointing to the exit on the right. "Go through there. We'll stop to get something to eat and spend the night in another motel. Then… we'll be on our way." He frowned, biting his lip.

He could feel Frank's eyes on him, but he didn't acknowledge him. His mother was right. He was pathetic. Truly and utterly pathetic.

Soon, he could hear Frank's voice. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, where are we going? Like… tomorrow?"

Gerard took a deep breath and looked out of the window again. Instead of his mother standing on the side of the road, he saw a little girl. She was clad only in a hospital gown that cut off just above her knobby knees. Her feet were bare as she stood in the wet grass. She stared at Gerard with big brown eyes, head tilted. The brunette hair she was born with was almost nonexistent now; just a few inches were left. She frowned at Gerard and reached out a hand towards him. Her mouth opened, and her lips formed soundless words.

_"Why, Daddy?"_

Gerard looked ahead, chewing on his lower lip. "We're… We're…" He looked down, holding his head in his hands. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn't dare lift up his head. He didn't want Frank to see him like this, regardless of the fact that he was, in fact, utterly pathetic.

"Gerard?" He felt Frank put a hand on his shoulder.

"J-Just d-drive," he managed to stutter out as Frank removed his hand from Gerard's shoulder and proceeded to drive, not saying another word for the rest of the car ride.

 

Their dinner passed without much difficulty. Frank attempted to comfort Gerard whenever it seemed to be the right time. But he had only managed to put a hand on his shoulder or arm before the other sputtered out for him to stop. Frank didn't know why he kept on insisting on comforting and helping the noirette. This whole situation was his fault, but Frank couldn't help but to feel obligated to make him feel better. He seemed to be the only one that had touched Gerard in any sort of way in the past couple of years, because he would flinch whenever Frank laid a hand on him.

He really wanted to help Gerard, he really did, but the only way to help him, it seemed, was to drive him to… wherever he wanted the next day without any questions asked. Frank wasn't sure he was able to do that, though.

 

Gerard pushed open the motel room's door, revealing another room that contained a single bed. He stepped aside to allow Frank room to walk in. The brunette took a deep breath and stepped in, heading immediately towards the bed. He kicked off his shoes and crawled on top of the covers, turning on his side, leaving a space for Gerard. He folded his hands and put them behind his head, looking ahead. He soon closed his eyes, trying to see if he could fall asleep there.

He could hear movement around the room, but he assumed that to be Gerard. Soon, there was a weight beside him, signaling that the other had made their way onto the bed. Gerard shifted around before laying on his own side, facing Frank. He stared at the back of his head, biting his lip. Frank slowly raised up his head, looking over at Gerard. "You don't have to be so far away," he muttered, resting his head on his hands again.

With that, Gerard slowly inched himself closer to Frank, reaching out a hand, touching his waist. When Frank made no attempt at moving, he slid his arm across his waist, scooting even closer. Frank could feel his shirt riding up and, then, air hitting against his stomach. He wet his lips and looked down. "Could you—"

"—sure." Gerard reached down and pulled Frank's shirt down, smoothing it out. He bit his lip and ran his fingertips along Frank's side before dragging them along the front, to his stomach. He pressed his palm against Frank's stomach, sniffing.

Frank looked down, watching Gerard's hand. "Thanks." He bit his lip and looked ahead. "Who's Ellie?" he asked quietly, hoping that his question would finally have an answer. He expected none, but he was surprised when Gerard's voice spoke up.

"Ellie's my daughter."

Frank furrowed his brow and looked down. He slowly turned over, facing Gerard. He looked up at him, studying his face. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to have gotten worse. "Your daughter?" He paused and looked ahead at the wall. "Why did you need the money?"

Gerard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "For her. She's… really sick." He opened his eyes and looked down at Frank. "I wasn't robbing the bank for… shits and giggles. I needed that money for a good cause. I just. I'm such a loser. I can't afford insurance, because Ellie's mother walked out on us, and she was the only source of income and. I'm just. I just want her to get better. I mean, she's only five. That's not an age anybody should go, right? I'm not a bad person."

Frank looked at Gerard with a renewed sense. He didn't exactly know what was going on inside his chest, but he wasn't going to make it stop. He slowly nodded. "Yeah… you're not a bad person." He parted his lips.

The black-head studied Frank before biting his lip. He looked down and placed his hand on Frank's waist. He scooted closer to Frank, their hips brushing against each other's. Frank instantly shivered, which made Gerard furrow his brow.

"I'm so sorry."

"Nah… it happens."

Frank and Gerard looked at each other, seeming to test the other, seeing who would be the first person to look away. It ended up being Frank, who had looked down as a violent blush appeared on his cheeks. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Is that where we're going tomorrow? To see your daughter? Use the money there?"

Gerard raised up the hand that was on Frank's waist and pressed it against his cheek. "Yes, that's where we're going tomorrow." He ran his thumb along the brunette's cheek bone. "Is that okay?" he asked quietly, scanning his face.

Frank nodded, eyes growing wide. He leaned into Gerard's touch a bit, looking down. "Of course it's okay," he muttered, sliding his eyes shut.

There was silence in the room, then. The conversation was done, and nobody felt the need to urge it further along. Soon, though, Frank felt Gerard softly press his lips against his own, urging the conversation along in a different way. Frank couldn't deny the other of this—Gerard wasn't much of a talker to begin with.

Frank pressed himself against Gerard as he cupped his face. He raised himself up in bed a bit, throwing his leg on the other side of him. He straddled his waist and pressed his palms against Gerard's chest. He parted his lips and immediately felt Gerard's teeth scrape against his lower lip. He felt his hips give a little twitch before he pulled away, looking down at him.

Gerard stared back at him with wide eyes. He sat up slowly and put a hand on Frank's shoulder. He pushed him aside and turned away from him. He slid off the bed and crawled across the floor, going over to his bag that was leaned against the wall. He began to dig inside it, leaving Frank and the growing problem in his pants to wait in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly, turning his head just as Gerard was making his way back onto the bed. In his hands was a condom. He looked up at Frank, eyes wide.

"W-We… I-I… We don't have—"

Frank pressed a finger against Gerard's lips, silencing him. He reached with his other hand and took the condom from his fingers. He set it beside them and scooted closer to the other. "Actions speak louder with words," he muttered, bumping his nose into Gerard's cheek.

Next thing he knew, Frank was pressed against the covers with significantly less clothing with Gerard hovering above him with a determined look in his eyes. He bit his lip and raised his hand up to his lips, sliding his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them. Frank took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He was _not_ going to be fucked by his kidnapper. He was _not_ going to be fucked by his kidnapper. He was not, not, not!

Gerard's fingers rubbed against his entrance, and Frank immediately moaned, tilting his head back.

He was _totally_ going to be fucked by his kidnapper.

 

Gerard pulled Frank's legs to hook around his waist before propping himself up with his forearms, looking down at the brunette. He bit his lip and shifted his hips forward, pressing into him again, the familiar sensation overcoming him.

Frank arched his back, heels digging into Gerard's back. "Shit," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He brought his hips down, matching up with Gerard's rhythm. The black-head instantly sucked in a breath and screwed up his eyes. Frank tilted his head back, letting out a soft moan.

Gerard rotated his hips and bucked against him, grunting a bit. "So tight," he muttered. He raised himself up and leaned over, pressing his lips against Frank's exposed throat. He started to gnaw at the skin, getting it red and raw. Frank moaned again, letting Gerard feel the vibrations against his lips.

The room was then filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, suckling, and obscene moans and groans. When Frank reached his peak, he saw white and came against Gerard's stomach. Gerard looked down and continued to pump his hips, pressing himself close, making Frank's dick slide against his stomach with each thrust. Frank pressed his fingers into Gerard's shoulder and pushed him. "Shit, stop, too sensitive. Fuck."

Gerard carefully pulled out of Frank and sat up on his knees. He turned away from him and discarded the used condom in the small wastebasket. It landed with a wet thud. He wrinkled his nose and reached over for the bedside table, grabbing a few tissues and cleaning the mess on his stomach.

Frank turned away from the other and looked ahead. He tried to steady his breathing. _Fuck_ , what just happened. He closed his eyes and roughly swallowed. Shit, his mother would kill him when she hears about this.

Gerard laid down beside Frank and scooted closer. He pulled the blankets over him before sliding his arm across his waist. The two of them stayed there quietly, taking everything in.

It was Gerard who spoke first. "Do actions really speak louder than words?" he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

Frank looked down and gripped the other's hand, clasping their fingers together. "You tell me."

 

The next morning, Frank woke up fully rested. He stretched and looked over, expecting to see Gerard sleeping soundly beside him. But Gerard wasn't sleeping. He wasn't even beside him.

He sat up in bed and furrowed his brow. "Gerard?" He looked around, eyes widening. The other was no where in sight. Frank's mind began to race.

Did Gerard leave him all alone in the room? Had he trusted him enough to leave him? Did something happen to Gerard? Was this all just one big dream?

The bathroom door busted open then, revealing the man who was clouding Frank's thoughts. Gerard walked towards the bed, tossing a pair of fresh clothes at Frank's face. "Come on. We have another big day ahead of us."

Frank pulled the set of clothes away and held onto them. He looked over at Gerard and narrowed his eyes. "Didn't you get any sleep?" He should have gotten used to the dark circles under the other's eyes by now, but they just worried him with each passing day. He had hoped, considering the events of the prior night, Gerard would have been able to catch some sleep. But even that seemed to be proved futile.

Gerard shook his head and began to pace the room. "Nope. I was up."

Frank rolled his eyes and began to dress. "Really. Thinking again?"

"Yes, I was." He walked over and picked up his bag. He rifled through the money, silently counting to himself.

Frank slipped out of the bed and stretched again, running his fingers through his hair. "Can I ask what was _so_ important that kept you from sleeping?" He walked over to the noirette, setting a hand on his arm. "You _need_ to sleep. You do realize that, right?"

Gerard looked over at him sheepishly. "Sleep is for the weak." He looked down at his bag again. He closed it and held it against his chest. "And I was formulating a plan last night, Frank."

Frank slowly nodded and lowered his hand from Gerard's arm. "What was the plan?" He walked away from him and looked around. "Hey, did you get any fo—"

"—on the counter." He ran his thumb along the fabric of the bag. Frank walked over to the counter and grabbed the package, finding mini pancakes along with a container of syrup. He glanced at Gerard, softly smiling, before sitting at the small table and ripping open the package.

He took out a pancake and surveyed it. He dipped it into the syrup, sniffing. "What was this master plan you thought of?"

Gerard turned around and looked at the back of Frank's head. He studied it. "Well… after Ellie gets better, you and I could find a nice little house—where nobody can find us—and we can raise Ellie there."

Frank froze. He looked down at his food and roughly swallowed. "Are you sure that's going to work? I mean… would that be the best for Ellie? For… me?"

He could hear Gerard huff. "Well, of course it is! What could you possibly mean about that? Nobody really cares that you're missing, you have basically no family left, and you'll be able to be a family with Ellie and I. Why wouldn't you want that?"

As the thought slowly began to sink into Frank's head, he shrugged. He chewed on his lip as he dipped another pancake in syrup. "I have no idea."

 

Gerard and Frank made their way into the hospital later that evening. Despite the fact that Gerard and he were on the run from… something, according to the other, nobody came to arrest Gerard or anything of the sort. Frank figured that even though the security cameras at the bank had gotten a pretty decent picture of his face for authorities, they actually had no idea where he was. They had no idea it was Gerard who had kidnapped him. Thank God for that ridiculous mask.

Gerard made his way to the front desk, telling Frank to linger in the lobby, since he wouldn't be allowed in to see Ellie. Frank agreed regardless. He knew that he would be able to see the young girl as much as he liked later on—when she got better, and they would live where nobody could possibly find them. Wait, was he actually considering this?

Gerard walked over to Frank and pressed his hand against his cheek. "I have to act like you're my partner," he muttered. Frank only nodded. He glanced ahead at the doors. "I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? You stay here. Read. Sit. Relax. I'll deal with everything, okay?" He patted his bag. Frank slowly nodded again. Gerard smiled before rubbing his cheek and turning away, going down the hall and turning into a room.

Frank walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. He looked around the area before glancing down at the table beside him. He hummed and reached out, taking a magazine off of the table top. He leaned back in his seat and began to flip through it. _Read. Sit. Relax. Read. Sit. Relax. Read. Sit. Relax._

Several minutes had passed before any sort of commotion had begun. There were shouts from opposite ends of the hallway before a bed was wheeled out of a room. Placed on top of the bed was a small skeletal child. She seemed to be sleeping. Frank thought there was something similar about the way the girl's porcelain skin glowed under the lights. He placed the magazine back on the table and perched himself on the edge of his seat. His eyes widened. Was this Ellie?

Gerard appeared a short distance away behind the bed. His bag was gone. He walked over to Frank and picked him up, spinning him around in a hug. "They're gonna work on her. She's going to be okay." He set Frank down on the ground and held his head in his hands. "She's going to be okay." He stroked the shorter's cheekbones with his thumbs.

Frank's face broke into a huge grin. "That's awesome, man!" He rubbed Gerard's arm, laughing a bit. "That's fantastic!"

Gerard took a deep breath. "Everything's going to work out. Everything's going to be okay. We're going to have Ellie perfectly okay, and we're going to live out in the country and—" He stopped talking, then, as if someone had grabbed his tongue. His eyes widened, and he began to slowly sway. He looked at Frank, left eye starting to twitch. Frank could see his pupils beginning to dilate.

He bit his lip. "And what, Gerard? What else are we going to do? Huh?" He raised up a hand and lightly swatted at Gerard's cheek. The fingers on his cheeks slowly slid off as Gerard crumpled to the floor.

 

Frank paced the hospital room, chewing on his lip. He glanced in the middle of the room, seeing Gerard in the hospital bed. He looked fragile next to the bed covers. Frank walked over to the over side of the room and collapsed in the seat. He looked ahead, shaking his head. This cannot be happening.

"Mister, what's happening with my daddy?"

Frank lifted up his head, seeing a girl in the doorway. She had her head wrapped up in bandages. Frank could see her knobby knees poking out from under her hospital gown. He knew this was Ellie.

He gave her a small smile. "Well, your father drove himself into a coma. He was so worked up with helping you that he… forgot to take care of himself."

She furrowed her brow and looked over at Gerard. "Why can't you help him, like he helped me?"

Frank gave her a small frown, then. "I don't have any money. He used it all on helping you."

She began to stomp. "It isn't fair. I want Daddy! I want Daddy!"

He shook his head, eyes widening. "No, no, no. Calm down! Shh, you need to relax." He stretched out his hands.

"I need to do what, Mr. Iero?"

Frank lifted up his head, seeing a doctor stand in front of him. He looked behind him, expecting to see Ellie hiding behind him, but there was no one there. She was gone. He slowly lowered his hands and shook his head.

"We need you to make a decision, Mr. Iero. If you don't come up with the money soon, we'll have to take Mr. Way off of life support. He doesn't have insurance, and, well…" The doctor trailed off, as if the broken sentence would clear up everything to Frank.

And, strangely, it did.

He nodded and stood up. "Okay. I'll get the money." He walked past the older man, determination in his step. He walked down the hallway, spotting Ellie poking her head out of a room. He glanced at her and gave her a small smile. "I'll save Daddy."

With that, Frank pulled a rubber Frankenstein mask over his head, wrapped his fingers around a gun in his pocket, and walked into a bank.


End file.
